How Beautiful...

So I was nonchalantly puzzling on Friday. Snow was falling outside the window and the Christmas tree lights reflected on the puzzle. The house was warm, my kids were both home, and Kenton was relaxing with a book. If I'd had a fireplace the day would have been perfect.

My puzzling tradition is to turn on worship songs while I puzzle and so I decided to listen to the worship playlist I created online last year. It had been a while and I had forgotten what was there, but as each song came on I rememberd why I chose them - Rich Mullins, Chris Tomlin, Lincoln Brewster, DC Talk, Amy Grant...familiar and beloved artists whose songs never fail to turn my heart towards Home.

I mentioned I was nonchalantly puzzling. I was nonchalantly worshiping as well, until the song "How Beautiful" by Twila Paris began. Do you know how sometimes God just sneaks up on you and suddenly you are face to face with the wonder of Him? It is totally unexpected and totally overwhelming. It always reminds me of Isaiah's worship experience which culminated in his realization that he was a "man of unclean lips". I suddenly found myself sitting over the puzzle weeping.

Why? I think it is a simple as this:

1. The body of Christ was beautiful, period. There is nothing more beautiful.
2. It remains beautiful as expressed through us who believe - His Church.
3. Though we are flawed, as believers we are still allowed to represent Him, to be His body - and what a gracious privilege it is.
4. And finally, I'm married to a pastor - his feet bring good news and the love of a King. He serves the bread and wine faithfully, year after year. It is no easy task and often I have resented it. But at that moment I realized anew just how very beautiful the service of a pastor is - and I was broken. Do you love your pastor?

Church, do you realize how beautiful this wonderful life is we are called to live? If you are like me, you really don't. But I pray that today you might catch a tiny glimpse of it through my worship experience. I pray you have one of your own.




Happy New Year!

My Time With You

On my knees, head bowed down. All is peace. Not a sound.
In the silence I want to hear Your quiet Love drawing near.
Patiently I wait. For that familiar knock. Upon my heart.

Come in, my Lord. I want to, need to, start my time with You.

To be with You. To have You near.
When I'm with You, I need not fear for I am Your's and You are mine.
Together.
I know that we will find the path that's straight, the way that's True.
There's noone I can trust like You.

At Your feet, I obey. If it hurts I'm still okay
for You will never let me go and in the pain You make me grow.
Within my heart I hide Your word. In it's wisdom I have heard
all I need for this new day. O Papa, what a gift it is to pray.

To be with You. To have You near.
When I'm with You, I do not fear for I am Your's and You are mine.
Together I know that we will find the path that's straight, the way that's true.
There's noone I can trust but You.

Jeremiah 29:11-13

Philippians 1:3

The older I grow, the more I can appreciate who my parents are, were and will be. The passing of time opens my eyes to see them not just as mom and dad, but also as Bill and Joyce - real people who have been on a real journey! Now that my children are preparing to leave the nest, I am beginning to understand how my parents must have felt as Rick, Randy and Kelli were growing up and, one by one, taking flight.

The hymn Amazing Grace says "I once was blind but now I see" and I know that this refers to the wonderful miracle that occurs when Jesus saves us by His grace, and gives us the ability to see, through His eyes, what life is all about. But I would like to borrow the words this morning and put them into the context of a child beginning to "see" her parents in a new way and as a result, to truly be grateful for who they are, were, and will be. If one of the benefits of growing older is this insight, then I am thankful to be growing older. So, mom and dad...

I once was blind to the fact that all those days you went to work was such a repetitive, disciplined, necessary task - but now that I do it day in and day out, I appreciate your faithfulness and commitment to give us a good life and a comfortable home (and what fun to get a new toy every 2 week payday)! And I still remember that exciting day we got the new TV in the red brick house! I know we cost you a lot of money - I hope we were worth every cent.

I once was blind to the fact that all those days you spent cleaning the tub and shower and doing laundry and mowing the grass and washing the cars and cooking the meals and repairing the house and on and on and on was such a tiring, thankless, and never ending chore - but now that I do it day and day out, I appreciate your perseverance and hard working hands! I didn't see you doing all those tasks then, but now I know that you did and now I see. (I will never forget the moving of the bricks from one location to the other, now that was a chore that WE deserved to do!)

I once was blind to the fact that all those days you drove us here, there and everywhere was time consuming and invasive to your own plans. But now that I have spent years carpooling kids to the activities of their lives, I see how blessed I was to have parents who thought it necessary to fill our lives with piano lessons, sports, church, overnights with friends, shopping trips, vacations to Florida and Arkansas...and countless trips long forgotten. (But I do remember us yelling "fronts" if we wanted the front seat, and usually I ended up in the backseat. And dad, I forgive you for not letting us listen to the radio in the car on those long trips, and for making mom "hold it" til you were ready to exit.)

I once was blind to the fact that all those days you had to say "yes" or "no" to us, or give us advice knowing we didn't want it, or having to decide how to discipline us, or just keeping a watchful eye on us - protecting us from others and from ourselves...how difficult and scary that can be. I now see how challenging it was for you and I thank you for you consistency and ability to make sure with the discipline and spankings came the love. (I do remember a good slap on the face and hearing the boys get "whooped" by the belt, but now I see that it was for our good and I know it really did hurt you as much as it hurt us!)

I once was blind to the fact that you put your lives on hold until you saw us all on our way. You went without, you didn't do what you wanted when you wanted, you sacrificed money, time, fun, freedom...on a daily basis so that you could meet the needs of three baby birds ever chirping with their mouths open! I now see that this was a most unselfish existence and how often did you hear "thank you"?

I once was blind to the fact that you put up with, not just my sassy lip and misbehaving ways, but also two other persons' distinct 'issues'! Life was all about me back then, but now I can see that your lives were all about the three of us - you were constantly molding, shaping, influencing, loving, and simultaneously letting go of us for years. I see what a complicated task that is and I applaud your abilities to juggle three balls without dropping us (too often)- nobody's perfect!

I once was blind to the fact that the words "mom" and "dad" are words with so much depth and rhythm, meat and fluidity, strength and humility, unselfishness and joy. They are complicated words and as each year passes their definitions become even more lengthy, yet more clear. I see that my mom and dad (and Joyce and Bill) are full of depth and rhythm, meat and fluidity, strength and humility, unselfishness and joy - and each year your "meaning" gets longer yet more clear to me.

So, this Mother's Day, 2009 (and Father's Day early) - I just want to take this opportunity to make sure you know that I know, at least a little bit - what you went through for me. Your years of parenting are no longer invisible to me. I appreciate You both and honor you for a job well done. I now know it wasn't easy! I look forward to more years of learning what awesome people you both are! I love you and I thank you! xxx000xxx000 - Kelli Oglesby Hunt - Eat a booger, old man!

Between you and me on Good Friday

You were born out of a great Light into a tiny world of darkness. Your mother wrapped you in swaddling rags and fed you. She wiped your face and cared for you. She rocked you and sang to you – she took care of you…so that you could take care of me.
You grew in wisdom and you learned. Your earthly father taught You how to build – how to use Your hands – how to live life here on earth, while your Abba Father in heaven taught you about Himself and how to use your hands to heal, to touch, to cleanse, to bless. He taught you how to love…so that you could love me.
You walked many miles, in dust and scorching sun. You sweated every day as you traveled long and weary roads. You walked and talked to your friends and to your enemies. You walked and talked…so that I would know how to walk and talk.
You wept for Jerusalem and for those who did not long to sit beneath your shelter. You cried for the unbelief – for the ignorance. You cried for my unbelief and ignorance. You wept for my rebellion. Your tears make me cry, and teach me what is worth crying about.
You surrounded yourself with people, with children – you related to every type of created – the small, the big, the short, the tall, the good, the bad, the sad, the happy, the faithful, the fearful, the unbelieving, the scoffer, the self-righteous, the apathetic, the lover, the hater, the sick, the dying, the afflicted, the forgotten. You accepted and loved each person you met. You accepted and loved me as you interacted with them.
You lived in awareness of who you were, what you were about – your focus was on serving and loving your Abba Father – showing Him to this tiny, dark world. You were the representative of the invisible God. You lived to bring His kingdom to all…you lived to bring His kingdom to me.
You prayed constantly to Your Abba Father. You sighed, you listened, you waited, you watched, you looked, you knew. You knew what He was saying to you. You prayed in the garden in anguish and despair. You experienced dread and agony. You did that for me. You prayed that prayer for me. You felt those feelings for me.
You were such a good man. You were obedient. Every act of righteousness was acted for me. Every choice You made was made for me. Every whip on your back was endured for me. Every drop of spit that hit your face was accepted for me. Every slanderous word, every wagging head, every look of contempt and hate that you received was received for me. Every thorn that pricked your scalp, every nail that punctured your skin, your bone, your muscle, your nerves –every breath that you labored under on the splintery, hard cross was breathed for me. Every blood drop, every blood gush, every ounce of pain was felt for me. Every loneliness, every abandonment, every rejection you carried was carried for me. And you didn’t deserve any of it…and I deserve it all.
How could this happen? How could this sweet , soft, smooth, tiny innocent baby go from a night of wonder and praise and silence and awe, go from the warmth of his momma’s embrace to this stark, empty cross where no one touched you – only the eyes of the world that you came to love, heal, forgive? How could you be up there on the spectacle of disgrace? You, the King of Heaven, the Creator of the Universe, the Holy One, the Reason for Existence – you hung up on that cross – naked and bleeding, tortured and despised.
How?
It is a mystery. It is a masterpiece. It is a miracle. It is beyond the highest ideal. It is beyond the most terrifying nightmare. It is heaven and it is hell. It is all goodness and it is all evil. It is Eden and it is the Germany of Hitler. It is me and it is my neighbor.
Oh innocent baby, coo me into your cradle, rock me into your presence. Oh innocent criminal, whisper to me as I hang beside you. Paint in my mind the picture of your face as a baby. And your face as you were dying. Those eyes would still be the same – those eyes that looked up at Mother Mary look over at me from the cross. Those eyes. I will look into those eyes and enter paradise…every day that I live and on the day that I die…into your very presence.
Thank You, Jesus.

(first written, 4/12/99)

Balloons and Eagles

Eagles soar. I too, want more
than just to settle here in this nest.
The wind is free and blowing for me.
But I must be ready.

Balloons fly. So too, must I
be released from the grip that anchors.
The sky is free and waiting for me.
But I must be ready.

If I jump, I just might fall.
Am I ready to risk it all?
When I'm cut, I will go up.
Do I believe? Enough to leave?

My youth is renewed. There is no excuse.
My wings are mature and steady.
And so the winds blow. Here I go.
Your love has made me ready.

My string's let loose. There is no excuse.
My soul is full and steady.
And so the winds blow. Here I go.
Your love has made me ready.

If I jump, I just might fall.
Am I ready to risk it all?
When I'm cut, I will go up.
Do I believe? Enough to leave?

I'm ready. Your love has made me ready.

My Cup Is Running Over Because of You...

The title to this entry is a line from a worship song by Michael Neale (I Will Dwell). It has been running through my mind over the past hours and days - it is the only way to accurately describe my worship, both private and public - recently. There are times in my life when I experience God in such a way that I am overwhelmed. I've tried to come up with words to describe it - like a volcano that has erupted? But that is too volatile. When Abba decides to stoop down and love on me in His most personal and perfect way, the only way to describe it is to say, like David...my cup is running over. It is a quiet filling up, sneaky almost. Until there comes a moment when I realize that I am running over and out and I am drowning in a flood of grace, mercy and love. My only response is to worship, to obey, and to say thank You. And to cry. But the tears are happy tears. Happy little expressions just running over. And to write.

So, I want to say thank You Abba. Thank You, Jehovah Jireh, my Provider, for bringing together events recently that have resulted in this experience of being filled to the brim. Thank you for my journal from Mary called Praying the Names of God. Thank you for Kenton's sermons on worship. Thank you for challenges at church that have brought me to my knees. Thank You for Beth. Thank You most of all for bringing back some of the dearest friends I have had in my lifetime. It has been a combination of these ingredients that has totally overwhelmed my heart and left me here, at Your feet, singing "my cup is running over, my cup is running over, my cup is running over because of You." May my life change in response to Your undeserved goodness to me. This is my act of worship.

Thank You for...

...acorns crunching beneath my feet;
...leaves cascading around my head;
...a squirrel sitting silently on a branch;
...clear blue skies interrupted by a surprise flock of birds;
...bobbing white tails of leaping deer;
...fog resting on the mountains at sunrise;
...pink cirrus clouds at sunset;
...crimson red, pumpkin orange, acorn yellow and plum purple mums;
...sunshine on my skin;
...American flags fluttering over Veteran graves;
...a chirping chipmunk;
...kicking my way through a pile of leaves;
...the majesty of an evergreen;
...a mountain set ablaze with the colors of autumn;
...tears of worship in my eyes.

"There's so much beauty around us, for just two eyes to see...everywhere I go, I'm looking." Rich Mullins from the song Here In America